“I’m trying to not think about it.” She yanked open her car door.

“Hey,” said Zander. “Relax. Mason can take care of himself.”

I bet Denny Schefte felt the same about himself.

She smiled at Zander, pretending her gut wasn’t full of acid, and told him good-bye. She started her car and carefully backed out of her space.

His head hurt like a son of a bitch.

Mason moaned as he turned his face to the side, feeling the roughness of dirt and rocks against his cheek. He couldn’t breathe through his nose, and the taste of iron and dust filled his mouth. He spit and it dribbled down the side of his face to the ground.

His hands were bound behind his back and his feet were tied together. He rolled onto his side and pulled his knees toward his stomach, trying not to scream in pain. It felt as if he’d been hit by a large truck.

Scott Heuser.

He killed Denny.

Scott had hit Mason in the head while he’d been incapacitated on the front porch. He faintly remembered the first two head blows. The third must have finally knocked him out. His stomach felt as if he’d been kicked a dozen times with pointy-toed cowboy boots. Nausea rocked through him and he closed his eyes, willing the contents of his stomach to stay in place. He breathed deep and fought to stay conscious as pain ripped through his left side and lungs.

Broken ribs.

Someone had continued to batter him after beating him unconscious. He hurt everywhere.

Why Scott?

The intricate mosaic of glass on the front door had triggered his memory. The home had belonged to one of the kids he’d been assigned to mentor. He remembered the first time he’d knocked on the door.

The woman was stunning. Liquid brown eyes and a body to die for. She smiled and held eye contact for too long. Mason had to look away. “Are you Heidi Nickle? Scott’s mom?”

“I am. Come in.” She stepped back into the home, holding the door open wider, inviting him in with her body language and direct eye contact. Seduction oozed from her. It was in her gaze, her movements, and her smile. Her words dripped with innuendo.

Shit.

Mason removed his hat and stepped into her lair, hoping he was misinterpreting her stares. But he’d been a cop long enough to recognize when a woman had the hots for an officer. He was there to meet her son for the first time and figure out a schedule that’d work for both of them.

“Can I take your hat?” She said it as if she’d just rolled out of bed after a marathon sexual encounter.

He dug his nails into the hat, not wanting to let it go. He already felt naked with his head uncovered. Handing it over would be losing the shield in front of his stomach.

He couldn’t let it go. “No, thank you. I can’t stay long. Is Scott around?”

Fire briefly flashed in her dark eyes.

This isn’t going to work.

“He’s in his room. I thought I should meet the man who’s going to be helping my son. He misses his last mentor. I swear they never last long. Are you going to have staying power?” She slowly raised one sculpted eyebrow.

The double entendre slapped him in the face.

“I always fulfill my commitments. I’ll be here for the full six months.”

Her face lit up. “Good.”

Steps sounded on the stairs to her right and Mason looked up to see her son studying him. Scott was fourteen. His hair was freshly combed, and his gaze was eager but nervous. He politely held out his hand to Mason, introducing himself.

Mason took his hand, impressed with the young man’s confidence. Scott looked to his mother, seeking approval, and she gave it with a regal nod. The boy lifted his chin and brought his gaze back to Mason’s. Heidi put her arm around her son’s shoulders and kissed him on the cheek. Scott didn’t push her away or look embarrassed as most teens would.

“I’ll get dinner started while the two of you talk,” said Heidi. “I have some steaks and I’m going to make twice-baked potatoes. Mason, can you stay for dinner?”

His mouth watered. But his wife and four-year-old were waiting at home for him.

“I’m sorry, but my wife’s already planned our dinner tonight.”

Fire flashed in her eyes again, but it was immediately quenched by her smile. “Maybe next time.”

“Maybe.”

He turned to see disappointment in Scott’s eyes. “You should stay for dinner,” he stated, his expression serious.

“Sorry, Scott. Like I said, my wife already has things planned. This is my day off, so I try to be home in time to eat.”

The boy simply blinked, holding Mason’s gaze.

Mason knew he couldn’t last six months.

Scott Heuser had been the boy. He’d changed his last name.

Mason took shallow breaths and opened his eyes. It was dark and he was in some sort of outdoor shed. He could faintly taste the fertilizer and old mechanical grease that hung heavily in the air. Two high, narrow windows showed him a dark sky and a far-off source of light.

He remembered he’d given a month of his time to the boy before asking to be reassigned. Scott’s mother had thrown herself at him every time he met with Scott.

Scott had grown up to become the director of Cops 4 Kidz. Mason had sat in a half-dozen board meetings with him and never recognized him as that fourteen-year-old. Now he saw the resemblance. He remembered the boy had been obsessively neat and driven about his schoolwork. Scott Heuser was still like that.

Did Scott murder Denny and the other men?